


On the Summoning of Angels

by Eigon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Elizabethan magic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eigon/pseuds/Eigon
Summary: Dr John Dee and Edward Kelley are attempting to summon an angel....
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	On the Summoning of Angels

One minute, Aziraphale had been walking along a narrow lane in Southwark, on the way to the George for a quiet drink (there was always someone there who could benefit from a quick blessing) – the next, he was standing in a garden.   
He looked around, disoriented for a moment. He had managed to miss the rose bushes, and was standing on a small lawn in front of a large house – it was too dark to see much beyond an impression of gables and diamond paned windows.   
Light was coming from the nearest of the windows, so he peered in.  
The candlelight illuminated a man who was sitting at a small table. There was a large crystal ball in the middle of the table, and the table top was covered with symbols and diagrams that Aziraphale was unable to read from where he was standing. To one side of this man sat another, older man, in scholarly robes. He was at a writing desk, his quill poised over a sheaf of paper.  
Aziraphale tapped on the window. “Hello!”  
Both the men jumped. Aziraphale tapped again. “Hello! Could you possibly tell me where I am, please?”  
The older man, looking annoyed, came to open the window. “Who are you, sir? And what are you doing in my garden?”  
Aziraphale smiled apologetically. “Seem to have got a little lost? If you'd just tell me where I am?”  
The older man sighed heavily. “You are at the house of Doctor John Dee, and you have just interrupted a most important experiment!”  
“Really?” Aziraphale beamed (he could think on his feet when he had to). “You are just the person I was coming to see. I'm afraid I must have missed your front door in the dark.”  
Dr Dee turned to his companion. “Go and open the door, Edward,” he said. “There will be little profit in us trying to continue tonight.”  
As soon as he was let into the sitting room, Aziraphale went straight to the little table with the crystal ball. He could see immediately what had happened – the symbols written on the table top were a crude attempt to summon an angel – and he had been the only angel in the vicinity.   
“This looks fascinating,” he said. “What were you trying to do again?”  
Dr Dee and the man he had called Edward looked at each other uncertainly.  
“We don't know anything about this man, sir,” Edward warned. He had an Irish accent, Aziraphale noticed absently, while Dr Dee retained a hint of Welshness under his educated English tones.  
“I have some interest in the occult arts myself,” Aziraphale said, encouragingly. “I'm Master Fell. You may have seen me at Court, possibly?” He knew he had the appearance of a gentleman of means, in his pale grey doublet and hose trimmed with light blue and gold and his stylish ruff. Tonight he was also wearing a half-cape of the same pale grey brocade, lined with pale blue silk. Stylish and expensive clothing, he had learned, always helped if you wanted someone to trust you.  
“I suppose it can do no harm to tell you,” Dr Dee said at last. “I have been trying to communicate with the angels for some time, and recently I fell in with Mr Kelley here, who is a talented scryer. The plan is for him to discern the angels in the crystal ball there, and tell me what he sees so I may write it down.”  
“That's – very bold of you,” Aziraphale said faintly. “May I ask your purpose in this?”  
Dr Dee puffed himself up a little, and stroked his long beard. “'Tis a noble purpose, Master Fell. I intend to contact the angels who rule the seven planetary spheres, so that we might heal the rift between man and God that took place at the Garden of Eden!”  
Aziraphale's eyes widened at the audacity of it. “That's – certainly a noble aim, Dr Dee,” he said. He doubted that a mere human could achieve such a huge undertaking, especially when they didn't recognise the angel that they had, in fact, summoned. However, he was impressed despite himself that this human had even wanted to try. “I'm so sorry I walked in on your experiment like that.” As he spoke, he moved so that one corner of the table was hidden from them. He moved his hand casually over the symbols written there, and changed them. That would at least ensure that he wasn't summoned by accident again. Whether they actually managed to summon any other angels was another matter.  
“Now, what was your business in coming all this way out of London this evening?” Dr Dee asked.  
“Ah, yes, that,” Aziraphale said, his mind going blank. “Actually, it was to consult your library. As I said, I have a certain interest in occult matters and I hear that your library is second to none in all England.”  
“Possibly in all Europe,” Dr Dee agreed enthusiastically. He took up a candlestick and gestured for Aziraphale to follow him. “Come and see.”  
Mr Kelley excused himself and disappeared to another part of the house.   
Aziraphale spent a fascinating hour or so discussing Dr Dee's books, until the Doctor had quite forgotten why Master Fell had come to visit him.  
“This has been so interesting,” Aziraphale said at last, when he judged that Dr Dee was sufficiently confused. “Thank you very much for being so generous with your time, and I hope to see you at Court someday soon.”

He wondered whether he should keep a discreet eye on Dr Dee's activities, though he thought he had changed the occult symbols enough that Dr Dee and his friend should come to no harm in their seances.   
Maybe he should send a report to Heaven....  
“Conscientious as ever, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said condescendingly. “I don't think we have to worry about some little human wizard upsetting the Great Plan, do you?”  
Aziraphale fiddled with the lace around his cuffs. “I just thought it would be useful for the angels concerned to know that they might be bothered by him,” he said.  
“I'll pass the information along, of course,” Gabriel said.  
So they left it at that.

Some time later, he was sitting in the courtyard of the George at Southwark, drinking ale from a pewter tankard. He had just sent a small blessing in the direction of a drayman who was worried about the imminent arrival of his seventh child, when he felt the presence of someone angelic behind him.  
He turned to see a figure in a white doublet and hose, far too white to have been achieved by human laundry methods. The gold embroidery on the doublet matched the scattering of golden freckles on Uriel's dark skin.  
Uriel sat down on the bench beside him, and she looked furious. Aziraphale flinched apprehensively. “I read your report, about Doctor Dee,” she said.   
“Ah – that. Gabriel thought it best to do nothing more,” Aziraphale said.  
“Mmm – Gabriel hasn't been summoned to Earth by a human,” Uriel said. “I've just come from Doctor Dee's house. The indignity of it!”  
Aziraphale made sympathetic noises. It had been a long walk home when they summoned him.  
“Do you know what they wanted – him and that Kelley creature of his?” Uriel went on.  
“He said something to me about healing the rift between man and God,” Aziraphale said, taking a small sip of ale. He allowed himself to relax. It seemed that he was not, after all, the object of Uriel's fury.  
“Ha! They asked me for money!” Uriel said. “Me! I brought the Word of the Lord to Noah, you know! The cheek of it!”  
“Not quite such a noble aim after all, then,” Aziraphale murmured, wondering what Uriel wanted him to do about it.   
“I rebuked him sternly,” Uriel said, “though I expect they'll try again. These modern humans have no respect for Archangelic authority, not like the old days. And another thing – they're inventing an angelic language!”  
“They're doing what?”  
“An angelic language – or that Kelley is. Dee seems to write down whatever rubbish comes out of his mouth, even when he's speaking in tongues, and they're convinced that they've discovered the original language of the angels. Or Dee is – I have my suspicions that Kelley is just making it up as he goes along, just like he's making up the angel King Carmara, and Prince Bornogo!”  
“But – those don't sound anything like angelic names!”  
“Just – keep an eye on him, Aziraphale. We don't want this nonsense getting out of hand.” Uriel got up from the bench, and disappeared without any fuss. None of the other drinkers in the courtyard seemed to notice her go.

The best place to seek out Doctor Dee was at Court. The Doctor did not attend as often as he had in the early days of Queen Elizabeth's reign, when he had been one of her most trusted advisors, but he was still called on from time to time. It was also neutral ground. Aziraphale didn't think he could get away with visiting Doctor Dee's house again – the Doctor would not be so easily confused a second time.   
It was interesting to see who Doctor Dee stopped to talk to in the crowd of courtiers, though. He seemed to be getting very friendly with a Polish nobleman who was visiting England.   
It was ignoble of him, he knew, and he was not usually the sort of angel who ducked responsibility, but it occurred to Aziraphale that Poland was outside his present Earthly sphere of influence. He wasn't sure which angel had that posting, but he was sure that they would be able to handle Doctor Dee's wild ideas quite adequately, and he could get back to a quiet life. He was starting to enjoy theatre again for the first time since the Roman Empire, and there were some quite promising up and coming playwrights he was keeping an eye on.  
“But I am returning to Poland soon,” he heard the nobleman say (he was sure he hadn't given any encouragement – he was still considering the possibilities). “You must come with me! We are far more welcoming of such new ideas than the Court here in England.”

“Out of my hands, I'm afraid,” Aziraphale explained on his next visit to Heaven to give a report in person. “He's gone off with the Polish chap, and I believe he's planning a tour of the crowned heads of Europe after that. He could be gone for years.”  
Gabriel gave a little sound of annoyance. “It's done now, I suppose,” he said, managing to sound as if it was all Aziraphale's fault for not stopping him from leaving England. “You'd better get back to your usual schedule. I've got a list of blessings here I want you to get moving on, quick as you can.”


End file.
